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𝗻𝗽𝗰'𝘀: 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘹 𝘸𝘪𝘧𝘦 (𝗳𝗰: 𝘃𝗶𝗰𝘁𝗼𝗿𝗶𝗮 𝗯𝗲𝗰𝗸𝗵𝗮𝗺) 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘯 (𝗳𝗰: 𝗰𝗿𝘂𝘇 𝗯𝗲𝗰𝗸𝗵𝗮𝗺) 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳 (𝗳𝗰: 𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗽𝗲𝗿 𝗯𝗲𝗰𝗸𝗵𝗮𝗺) 𝗱𝗲𝘀𝗶𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀; 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥  

Tauriel remembers every detail of that fatal night. A reverent that curled around her mind in her waking hours or sleep, much like the spirited mist that coiled around the surrounding mountains. A pale noose that sometimes suffocated her, taking her every breath and haunted her mind.When the howling of Rhîw splintered between thin blackened trendies hanging from the tree's hypnotized in its cold embrace. It awakened her from her slumber right before the Orcs entered her village, as if the Valar themselves were trying to warn them all before the pillaging began. The swaying of the pendulum in the next room clicked from left to right as swiftly and clear as Quell. The breeze right before the very first scream pierced the air like the tip of a dagger and a deep, resounding thud as the springs bounced off the wooden floor, awakening her parents in the next room.A heavy silence filled the air before her, nadar's voice screamed out for Tauriel to hide, as he had taught her. She slipped swiftly out of the warmth of her covers for the very last time and under the wooden planks under the privacy of her bed. It was a hidden cubby he made for her, and her naneth if trouble every brewed while he was away. He kept it stocked with a week of supplies and weapons in case they needed to stay for more than a day. She couldn't stop shivering as she backed her small frame into the stone-cornered wall and slipped down, holding her trembling knees against her chest as she watched the shadows between the floor boards. And suddenly, Tauriel covered her ears at once when she heard her naneth's gurgling cries and nadar's final roar before a swift steel blade plummeted into his chest. She cannot recall how long she stayed under the floorboards. Tauriel felt as frozen as a gentle leaf in the middle of a catastrophic Rhiw storm. But the scent of rotten eggs, charred flesh, and iron filtered heavily into the air and reminded her she was still alive as cold, sticky droplets of life spilled between the wooden floor.It must have been a few days that passed, and the last dying cries, moans faded away like the torn pages of an old book her nadar would sometimes use when he couldn't find a dried twig to light their fireplace in the colder months. Her naneth would always scoff at him for doing so, lecturing him on the time it took to make that book, and what if that was the last in existence? The words he just burned would be forever lost, she would scoff. Her Nadar would settle back into his old creaky rocking chair with a wooden pipe between his smirking lips and motion for Tauriel to join him on his lap as he snuggled her in his arms listening to his wife lecture him further. “Aye, its the past woman! And the best stories are always held in our minds and hearts.'"They are passed down from one generation to the next. Not some flattened words scribbled a bout with no feeling at all! I'm sure whatever story that was written in that book is still with the loved ones he had left," he said and began to rock softly with her in his arms in his chair. "Plus you fancy freezing to death? Miss I am cold! I am cold!" He chuckled heartly and kissed the top of Tauriel's fiery locks." I'll never know where you got this colour from lass! But I believe its a reflection of your soul." Her emerald eyes welled in tears again as she sniffled and rubbed her tiny nose knowing she would never have another memory of them again.Lost in her thoughts, she barely registered the creaking of the floor, shifting of light as King Thranduil's men found her there. She was catatonic, and they must have called her a million times before one decided to jump down and a loom of dust from the dirt beneath his feet splattered around, awakening her from her dreams as she looked up towards him. "Are you a Maia?" her raspy, brittle voice from lack of fluids asked in a whispered breath. "No, I am not Henig. Odulen an edraith anlen. We come to take you to the palace where you can recover, and we will find you a new home in the inner sanctuary of the Village." He spoke gently and quickly scooped her up, and she didn't realize how weak she actually felt as she slumped into his chest as he crawled out of her family's secret dwelling, she would see her parents again.Their lifeless bodies lay unnaturally on the floor. The skin was as pale as the moon and hung barely on their bones. Their eyes were still open wide but soulless, and their mouths were agape from their silent screams. In that split second Tauriel went from having no strength at all to kicking and fighting away from the gentle elven that held her and sunk by her naneth's body. And even though there was pools of blood she crawled into her frame like a baby and laced her small arms over her naneth's beatless heart. "Wake up Nana! Oh wake up! Please! I do not want to leave here. I want to stay with you or come back and take me too!" She cried as she squinted her eyes tight and perched her lips as her breathing hitched. "You promised you would never leave me! You promised! Come back! Come back!!!”At first Thranduil's men just stood frozen. Their eyes peeled at the little girl, and they occasionally glanced at the other unsure what to do. But they knew it was only a matter of time before trouble would befall again and they needed to gather the survivors and the dead too. The same soldier who first held her in his arms tired to at first encourage her gently into his arms. But Tauriel resisted and screamed, spatting in his face and clung to her naneth as another soldier had to assist, even though she was just a little lass. "No! Noooooo!!!," Tauriel screamed before finally sinking into his chest again and she felt even more tired than she did before as the world around her muted into nothingness. "We will give them proper burial and you could visit them whenever you wish," he tried to reassure her. But his words felt as lifeless at that moment as her once vibrant village as he carried her away, and that was all she could remember, as she must have fainted in his arms, wanting to dream it all away.When Tauriel awakened again, her old painted walls were replaced by fine, smooth marble, tapestries, and a heady scent of lavender's and myrrh, and the sound of fresh springs spilling over perfectly shaped rocks could be heard in the distance. Skyward lights from the morning star splintered purposefully through an arrangement of mirrors perfectly orchestrated, filling the area beneath, and even the tiny dusting sparkled heavenly in the room, making Tauriel feel as if she were in a dream. But as a shadow blocked out the light that temporarily warmed her skin, meaning to bring her comfort, but instead reminded her of why she was there. It was the voice of the soldier who must have brought her there.The sacred healing springs in Thranduil's palace, and as he spoke with words meant to bring her solace, all she could see and think of was her parents spread across the floor in her childhood home. Tauriel would not even look at him or cast a single gaze his way. It was too painful and too much for her to bear, and she no longer shook in fear but with the thought of never allowing another village to suffer as she just did. Her emerald eyes fixed on the glint of two swords that hung on the wall in the distance, and she drew in a breath, feeling as if it was the first one she ever took in her entire young life, and she swallowed back the last bit of sorrow and spoke in a pristine, clear voice to the soldier. "Teach me. Teach me all you know, so I can fight alongside you one day. I may be young, barely a knee, but my nadar has been training me since the time I began to walk. I will not let your efforts go to waste.”The little girl she once was no longer what laid on that bed now. She stayed with her parents in her childhood home and was replaced by a spirit that would revenge her parents deaths and not allow another family, nor village to be torn apart again. With a look of certainly unwavering resolve upon her face, Tauriel let the last tear she would cry for that day slip past the curve of her cherub face. Her emerald eyes now fixated upon his dark azure's in the healing room, and she spoke once again. But her voice was strong, almost fierce, and he could tell she would not take no for an answer. "Teach me everything you know, and I will bring you every head of an Orc I come across. I assure you of this." He smoothed his large hand over her own and threaded his fingers with hers as he nodded slowly and squeezed it tight, seeing the determination in her eyes and a soul of a fearless warrior in her eyes. "I will teach you all I know and guide you in the best way I can. You have my word. My promise young henig as long as you promise to not waste the life you still have and seek beauty and be fearless in love again."Tauriel could not speak as he spoke kindly to her and with such care, reminding her of her nadar as tears welled in her eyes, so she simply nodded in agreement and squeezed his hand. 

A Prostitute sat on the throne of a King,a bad omen, a twisted blasphemy,golden crown, diamond ring,that was her destiny.

THE DARK BEFORE DAWN- THE NARROWS-Rewritten drabble/Expanded for Marionette “Well, if you’re lookin’ for work, I could probably use another good bartender in this joint. Especially someone handy like you, who could double as a bouncer when the fightin’ starts. As long as you don’t actually go lookin’ for trouble. You got lucky I saved your ass this time before that guy cut your throat, but don’t push it, pal.”Alfred was dismayed to find himself actually considering Harvey Bullock’s employment offer. After living for nearly a month in The Narrows, Gotham’s impoverished, notoriously crime-ridden island district, the former butler of Wayne Manor knew his bank balance would need to be supplemented sooner than later. The possibility of tending bar where Bullock had taken refuge after resigning from the GCPD was both a blessing and a new low.But Harvey was right. He did stumble onto the scene, after emerging from the men’s toilet at almost the last possible minute, to save Alfred from certain death. Bullock deserved some respect based on that fact alone.“I just may take you up on that one, mate,” Alfred nodded, absently staring down his empty shot glass. “Reckon it’s something to consider, i’nnit? At this stage, at least.” Just weeks earlier, teenage billionaire Bruce Wayne sacked Pennyworth as both his legal guardian and family butler, effectively terminating his salary and all connections to the home Alfred knew before Bruce had even been born.“Aw c’mon, you make it sound like it’s the worst decision you could make around here.” Ever the attentive barkeep, Harvey was already tipping the bottle over Alfred’s glass for yet another refill. “This place ain’t so bad. Sure, it’s The Narrows, but like I said, I like this bar. It’s got history. And besides, with your luck lately, and after what we went through tonight, I’m startin’ to think we might make a pretty good team after all.”Captain Jim Gordon had left their company well over an hour before, having heard the radio dispatch alerting that his escaped murder suspect, Alfred Pennyworth, had gotten into a brawl at a nearby drinking hole with the real perp who implicated Alfred in the death of waitress Tiffany Gale. Alfred was seemingly already in the clear once the real offender was led away in cuffs, but Bullock, refusing Gordon’s subsequent request to return to the force, unapologetically told Jim to hit the bricks. Such drama unfolded while Alfred mourned the fresh loss of his murdered friend, a woman he barely knew despite their intense connection at a nearby diner.If ever a night called for strong booze and commiseration between two disgruntled souls in a Narrows dive bar, this was it.“I shall sleep on it, Harvey.” Alfred lifted his eyes, watching as the former detective defied city ordinance by pouring himself another shot while still on the clock behind the bar. What use was there for law in The Narrows? Thanks to Jerome Valeska and all of Dr. Strange’s mutated minions, Gotham was fast descending into a lawless free-for-all well beyond the city’s usual chaos. If current trends continued, The Narrows might prove safer than the rest of Gotham. So what good was common sense or even decency, anymore?Mr. Yes Sir, No Sir! Mr. Queensberry Rules and Discipline, Alfred’s military comrade, Reginald Payne, once called him. Alfred was starting to wonder if he’d been wrong to believe skill and hard work made it all worthwhile. Without a sense of purpose, Alfred could feel himself becoming dangerously disgruntled.Oh, if only you could see me from the grave now, Reg. You’d have a right good laugh, wouldn’t you?Almost as if he read Alfred’s mind, Bullock clinked their glasses together. Another drink was shared after multiple earlier toasts made in Tiffany’s memory, thanks to Bullock’s Irish sentimentality. “Well, at least you’ll be sleeping in your own bed tonight, and not in a cell at the precinct. Believe me, listening to Gordon’s holier-than-thou bullsh*t right now’s the last thing you need, even if you weren’t already cocked, locked and ready to rock.”“I thought you were good mates, not just partners, you and Gordon,” A bleary-eyed but still conscious Alfred stated matter-of-factly. Being present while Bullock directly questioned Jim Gordon’s questionable conduct with Gotham’s criminal underworld had been awkwardly enlightening. But Alfred was in no hurry to return to his dingy little flat a few blocks away. Patience and persistence paid off when he was forced to secure acceptable housing in the Narrows on a newly restricted budget. But after losing Tiffany that night, and narrowly avoiding being framed as her killer, Alfred did not relish being alone with his rage.“Yeah, well, sometimes friendships aren’t all that, am I right?” Bullock pointed to Alfred’s newly drained glass, but the Whitechapel native refused another drink with a polite wave of his hand.“In light of recent events, I’m inclined to agree.” Alfred could feel the weight of Bullock’s well-meaning stare. Both men were skilled in the art of observation and interrogation. Harvey couldn’t shake his training any more than Alfred could fully shed his own. They were both soldiers who fought very different wars but recognized a commonality between them.“Well, I don’t know what all happened with you and Bruce to get you to leave a cushy life at Wayne Manor for The Narrows,” Harvey offered, “but if it makes you feel any better, just try to imagine Bruce waking up with a killer hangover, a ton of regret and having to make his own breakfast or mop up his own…”.Bullock’s poor attempt to lighten the gloom was interrupted by the buzzing of Alfred’s mobile phone. Reaching into the pocket of the casual jacket he’d been wearing all evening, Alfred produced the phone and stared at the caller ID.Bruce Wayne. Once upon a time, not long ago, the boy’s name had flashed across the screen more affectionately as Master B.“I’ll make myself scarce.” Harvey could read the caller’s identity in Alfred’s expression and was already sauntering away to give the man some privacy. But Alfred merely muted the call and dismissively slipped the phone back into the depths of his coat.You’ve got a lot of bloody nerve ringing me at this hour, Brucie. I don’t give a toss. Not after tonight. Not after the past month. The bitterness of his own thoughts simultaneously broke Alfred’s heart and left him numb, his ability to feel anything threatening to leave him altogether. It was a frightening possibility, and welcome all at once.“That’s what voicemail is for,” Alfred said aloud, surprising even himself at his refusal to take Bruce’s call. “Innit?” Carefully sliding off his barstool, he tried settling his tab but met some resistance from Bullock.“Your money’s only good for the first four, Alfred. The rest are on the house, at least for tonight.” Harvey noted the former butler seemed slightly unsteady, but did not worry much about how Alfred might get safely back to wherever he was currently calling home. The tough old Brit already dodged the Reaper once that night. He could take care of himself for the remainder, even in the Narrows. Judging by the defiance in Alfred’s eyes, Harvey figured anyone stupid enough to try jumping the old guy in some alley would get far worse than a knife to the throat.“Give the job some thought, man. You know where to find me if you’re looking for an honest gig to pay the rent.”“You’re a good man, Bullock. Kindly disregard all the nasty things I’ve called you in the past.” Alfred stifled a hiccup and rifled through his wallet, slapping a handsome tip on the bar despite his unemployed status. “Well, apart from your slovenly state of dress, mate. It’s appalling, really. Have you ever met an iron in your life?”Alfred’s tired grin reassured the other man that it was all mostly in jest, prompting a head shake and chuckle from Harvey Bullock as they shook hands in farewell. It was time for Pennyworth to take his leave while he could still feel his legs.***The night air’s stink of decay, death and corruption, even more prevalent in The Narrows than in the entirety of Gotham City, did little to clear Alfred’s head as he trudged along the shadowy streets leading to his new residence. The quantities of Irish whiskey Harvey so liberally served back at the bar may have temporarily subdued his fury, but stepping back out into the maze of hopelessness and despair only worsened his mood.Visions of Tiffany haunted him from that very night, his last glimpse of her gazing fearfully from her murderous boyfriend’s car window and the subsequent wide-eyed stare projected from her battered, discarded corpse played on loop in his head. He’d seen the intent in the bastard’s eyes, recognized all the signs of violent intent, yet still Tiffany had gotten into that car with her abuser. She didn’t heed Alfred’s warnings, wouldn’t accept his protection. He could have saved her, he was certain of it. He only wanted her to be safe, to still be here. But she didn’t listen.And neither had Bruce. The boy was still out there making bad decisions all on his own while the city’s lunatic villains were wreaking havoc on the city. Bruce was at risk. And Alfred no longer had any say in the matter.Over a month’s worth of emotional blows was taking a toll. Was that all it took to weaken the former soldier’s resolve, to make him lose faith in his own life’s purpose? Four weeks in, and you’re ruffled by some bloody teenager and a woman you barely knew? Alfred spat bitterly to himself as he stared down at his booted feet, no longer caring that his surroundings were so sparsely illuminated by streetlights that anyone with sinister intent could be lurking in the shadows, ready to strike. He blended with the inky darkness in his casual black attire, hands thrust in the pockets of his jacket, a strange state of disorientation overwhelming him. The shock was wearing off, a familiar pang of anguish rising from the pit of his belly.Serve. Stand guard. Protect. It was everything Alfred Pennyworth took pride in doing, his purpose, his meaning. The man was self-sufficient and could certainly look out for himself, but needed a reason that mattered. Having only himself to look after when no one else benefited always led to one grim reality. Without boundaries, his anger would feed upon its host.Discipline, soldier! Sir, yes, Sir!Give me a reason. Just one bloody reason!The rage resurfaced, welling up from some deep recess and flooding his veins like the madness of a were-beast transformed by the full moon. Infuriated by a heap of trash bins partially blocking his path outside an adjacent alley, Alfred roared at them with a savage kick, scattering the barrels into the street. A stab of pain seized his chest, a wave of nausea churning violently in his stomach. Pitching himself into the alley, Alfred braced himself with a palm to the grimy brick wall, dry retching as he fought to keep from falling to his knees.Maybe he was having a heart attack. Or maybe it was heartbreak. Either way, Alfred feared he was coming apart.“Ugh. Bloody hell. F*** it!” Only after his stomach’s multiple attempts to empty itself did Alfred realize he’d started to weep. Absently rubbing his eyes with the sleeve of his dark jacket, he dug into a pocket and produced a handkerchief to wipe at his mouth. This couldn’t be his fate, not shattering into a thousand pieces in a Narrows alley, far from Wayne Manor and everything - and everyone - he’d come to love. He wouldn’t allow it. He needed to persevere, to fight his own downfall every second, if need be. Even if it meant reporting to Harvey Bullock’s as some glorified dive bar bouncer.“One hour at a time, Pennyworth,” he muttered aloud, scolding himself for even thinking of succumbing to bad old habits. There was no Thomas Wayne to save him from the path of self-destruction this time. Alfred had to rely on himself and no one else to make it through.A rustle of movement from somewhere nearby caught Alfred’s attention. He wasn’t alone in the alley.“Hello?” Suddenly he was sobering up quickly. Despite how his head was still swimming, every sense was on high alert. His hands automatically reaching for the pistol tucked into his back holster, Alfred strained to see through the shadows, listening for further movement, waiting to be attacked.And there she was, a young blonde crouched against the wall. Surely she must have witnessed the man’s unraveling from just a few feet away. Lowering his firearm but still keeping a steady grip of the weapon, he blinked at her, confused.“You alright there, Miss?” created by creativian #stardust{ width: 500px; background: #1d1d1d; border: 1px solid #f2f2f2;} .inner{ width: 450px; background: #1d1d1d; border: 1px solid #f2f2f2; margin: 25px 10px 25px 10px;} .secondinner{ width: 430px; background: #1d1d1d; border: 1px solid #f2f2f2; margin: 9px 0px 9px 0px;} .title{ width: 350px; font-family: georgia; font-weight: 800; font-size: 50px; letter-spacing: -4px; text-transform: lowercase; margin-top: 40px; line-height: 90%; border-top: 20px solid #fff; padding-top: 40px; color: #fff;} .uppersubtitle{ font-size: 8px; font-family: georgia; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: 2px;} .bottomsubtitle{ font-size: 8px; font-family: georgia; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: 2px;} .text{ width: 350px; text-align:justify; font-size: 10.5px; margin: 40px 10px 40px 10px; line-height: 140%; color: #fff; font-family: courier; padding-bottom: 40px; border-bottom: 20px solid #fff;}

full name: rue elizabeth bellamynickname: bells age: 19 year: 7 house: hufflepuffpatronus: calico catwand: sycamore with dragon heartstring coreblood purity: mugglebornfamily: meridith bellamy (mother), alice bellamy (older sister), dahlia bellamy (younger sister).love interest: Noonefriends: ginny weasley, fred & george weasleygender: female, she/they pronouns usedsexual orientation: Bisexualphysical description: medium brown hair and green eyes. tan skin with pretty beauty marks.defining feature: striking noseopinions of you:harry: i don't know her well, she seems sweet though.hermione: she's friends with fred and george. i love hanging out with her at the burrow!ron: best friends with my brothers. she seems fun and puts up with them, kudos to her.ginny: my gorgeous girl. we've known each other always, she's my favourite.fred: horrible, unfunny, disgusting. wait no! tell her i was joking! please, i beg you!george: one of the bestest friends you could ask for. she helped me ask out lee. 

full name: thalia marie colemannickname: tally (by hermione)age: 16height: 5'6year: 6 (same as golden trio)house: gryffindorpatronus: cobrawand: acacia with veela hair coreblood purity: half-bloodfamily: theodora coleman (mother), barrett coleman (father), rhys coleman (younger brother).love interest: Noonefriends: harry potter, hermione granger, ron weasley, dean thomas, seamus finnigangender: female,  she/they pronouns usedsexual orientation: bisexualphysical description: dark brown hair and green eyes. brown skin that lights up a room.defining feature: perfect browsopinions about you:harry: thalia is wonderful. she's the fourth corner to our group.hermione: i adore her. she's my one and only crush. *blows a kiss*ron: i'm happy for her and mione. they're my best friends.dean: we grew up together, stayed friends through hogwarts. send her my best.seamus: ol' tally never knew what hit her when she and dean became friends with me, that's for sure!luna: hermione and thalia are a beautiful couple. their aura is immaculate. dumbledore: a bright witch, that one.

Christine placed her hand on her youngest son's shoulder "It's all going to be alright, bambino." Bambino. The only time Christine ever used that term was to console one of her children during some of their darkest times. Earlier that day Ender had arrived to the home he has shared Amelia for the last year - building a life with her as they raised their daughter together. Something didn't seem right as he stepped through the front doors. Stumbling back he took in the site before him. Pulling his phone from his pocket, dialing his mother's number. "Ma, I'm gonna need you keep Ev for a little longer." his voice was softer than he anticipated. "Everything alright?" She replied. "I'll explain when I get there". Alright? How could everything be alright? Nothing prepares you for walking into your home and seeing who is supposed to be the love of your life bent over the sofa by her pilates instructor. 'He's gay babe' my ass, something about him was always off. Now we know. Ender took a mental note to burn the sofa later. Two weeks in. How do you know when something is completely over. Is it when they are distant.  When you are distant. Or is it a hope and a prayer that it's not. Even when you know deep down that it is. That loving you could be fatal. Is it when you feel completely hopeless inside.  Like nothing you do or say will make a difference. Is it when you feel like your world is crashing down, and there's nothing you can do to stop it. Everything's not okay. This is not okay. We are not okay. petending doesn't make this any easier.  Pretending that loving you wasn't going to be fatal. Holding onto nothing. You gave just enough, just enough to make it better. Why'd you have to be like that. Loving you was fatal. You wanted another piece. And foolishly it was given it to you. Just take a piece and go. It won't be different this time around. He knows he meant nothing. Loving you was always going to be fatal and he was just to blind to see it. Lightning flashed through the sky followed by the low rumble. It had to be tonight of all nights that it decided to storm. Perfect setting for a break down. Everything that he had done up to this point to keep himself together had now failed. Collapsing to the ground his fingers wrapped around the pendant that hung around his neck. The first thing she ever gave him. His whole world felt like it was crashing around him and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Sometimes things happen and you have no control over it. You just have to feel it and let it happen. You have to come to terms with the fact that it's not always all love, sunshine, rainbows and butterflies. There was always a darker side of things. Ripping the pendant from his neck, no use in keeping it now, he tossed it across the room. The soft clang as it hit the wall ripped through him. It was over. It was really over. Three months later. Everyone would have thought it would have taken much longer than a month to get over everything. But truth be told, it had been over long before. To everyone else they had a picture perfect relationship but behind closed doors it was nothing but a mess. It wasn't unlike Ender to have to call his mother or one of his brothers to come get their daughter so she wouldn't be exposed to the fighting. But for that little girl he was willing to do whatever took to make it work. Until now there had only been rumors of someone being unfaithful. One month to pull himself together, clean up the house - wipe every memory of Amelia from his life. One month of curving everytime Everly asked for her mother. No one expected Amelia to abandon her, but there she was wanting nothing to do with their child. Every attempt that was made went unanswered, no text, email or calls. Nothing.During this time, without Ender's knowledge, Reece had dug into why Amelia would leave her cozy life with him. "Don't hate me but I did something" Reece said as he slid the envelope across the counter. Why did everyone have this habit of giving him new through an envelope. "The f*** did you do now?" Sighing he picked up the envelope, pulling out the contents of it. "First of all, how did you get her phone records? Scratch that. I don't want to know." With a little smirked Reece shrugged his shoulders "Ways little brother. I have my ways. If she didn't look exactly like you, poor child, I'd recommend a dna test". Reece tilted his head in the direction of the livingroom where Everly was currently engrossed in some TV show. "Do you not remember the whole thing? Me finding out she was mine? Mom crying, not sure if she was horrified or happy." "She was horrified her that precious baby boy" Reece paused making a gagging noise "banged and knocked up some random girl. Not going to lie, thought I'd be the first to do that. Not you. Kind of proud of you baby brother" "Stop f***ing calling me that" Ender huffed while rolling his eyes. "Good god man, you need to re-f***ing-lax." Picking his phone up off the counter, he pulled up Amelia's contact.   I see everything so clearly now. I could have given you the world. My heart was open for you. But instead of taking it and letting me love you, you plunged a knife into my chest. I was never what you wanted. I was a temporary fix. Just someone you stung along until the one you actually wanted took you back. I was always going to be your second choice. I can't believe i let you into my life only for you to f*** me over like this. Go f*** yourself, Amelia.   "What are you writing a damn novel?" Letting out the breath he had been holding in, he slid the phone across the counter. "Read." Reece took Ender's phone, skimming over the text on the screen. "Such an angry little hobbit. I love it. Annnd send" "Reece what the f*** did you do?!" "Uh sent it?""F***. I didn't want to send it you d*ckhead. It's called letting your emotions out. Like the whole write a letter but don't send it kind of thing. Didn't they teach you that in rehab?""Oops? It's fine. Don't get your panties twisted. Uh....""God what now?""She's calling.""What?""Amelia, she's calling.""I'm gonna have a heart attack.""I'm just kidding. Jesus, relax. But someone is calling you."

┊         ┊       ┊   ┊    ┊        ┊ ┊         ┊       ┊   ┊   ˚✩ ⋆｡˚ ✩ ┊         ┊       ┊   ✧ ┊      ┊       ☪⋆ ┊ ⊹ ✧ ⋆     ┊ . ˚ ˚✩ ________________________________ ⋙₍table of contents • i. . . basics • ii. . . personality • iii. . . appearance • iiii. . . relationships • iiiii. . . background ________________________________ ䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀ ↳i. basics ↳₍name: Emily Alexander Swan   ↳₍nickname(s): Em   ↳₍gender female + her/she    ↳₍sexuality + romantic identity bi + demi   ↳₍height 5ft   ↳₍species Omega White Winter Fox Demon/Sinner   ↳₍age 100   ↳₍year died in ?   ↳₍birthdate 10.01   ↳₍sin Lust/Greed   ↳₍death ?   ↳₍powers Shape Shift   ䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀ ↳ii. personality ⁑⇸good traits •happy •nice •caring •loving •sweet •cheerful   ⁑⇸neutral traits •calm   ⁑⇸bad traits •anxious  •overwhelmed  •sad ䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀ ↳iii. appearance  skin picture   face picture    body petite    clothes depends ䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀䷀ ↳iiii. relationships    ⋙ friends  --Angel --Cherri --Charlie Credits: SodapØp

We are currently on a waitlist for FEMALE roles.When a spot becomes available - we will message you and you'll have 24 hours to respond with your audition If we don't get a response, we will move on to the next person on the list and delete your comment. You will have to resign if you miss your chance, so make sure you're checking back daily!Please ensure that before you put your name here that you have read and signed the rules.We are so thrilled you want to consider Eldridge your home, sign below with the neighborhood you want most!

Season OneMadison ClarkNick ClarkDaniel SalazarOfelia SalazarDr. Bethany ExnerVictor StrandSeason TwoLuciana GalvezSeason ThreeTroy OttoJake OttoQaletaqa WalkerCrazy DogSeason FourAltheaJohn DorieJuneMorgan JonesCharlieSeason Five & SixSarah & WendellMax, Annie & DylanDwight & SherryVirginia 

On this day it which was a gorgeous day to celebrate but through our new Orleans there was a funeral a big one too the casket would show his body all down the streets in the French quarter the dead Mayor of new Orleans but New Orleans had different kinds of funerals it was a party it was not a morning there was a huge celebration going on in town Klaus pushed through the crowd a joinging a Marcellus they were chatting about what was to do that day and yada yada Klaus laughed at his joke what he told him but he stopped mid laugh his face became serious he sniffed the air and did not Hesitate to flash away when he came to a sliding halt he looked around his eyes widened seeing the stack of fresh bodies everywhere kneeling down touching one of the bodies bite marks he knelt down to see who had done this leaning in he whispered * Stefan ? * This confused him Marcel soon appeared almost tripping on a dead human but Marcel fortunately did not * what the hell ? * Marcel looked around * it looks like a blood ripper came through here Klaus let out a sigh and stood up * who did this ? Marcel asked and Klaus * I'm not so sure but I tend to find out * Klaus said * have the others clean this up before the humans catch on I will take care of this * he flashed away to track who had left all the bodies however tracking the one who did this was fairly easy because the mountain of bodies led to Rousseau's Klaus walked into the bar seeing some of the usual bar goers with there head ripped off completely the only human alive was the bartender who had been compelled to make a drink for Stefan and after that the bartender had to slice his own throat there was a broken bottle on the bar for him to do so the look on the man's face looked terrified even though he tried to get the hell out of there he couldn't his body forced him to make the drink instead of getting to safety Klaus leaned against the door he smirked * having fun without me I see how it is Stefan * he smiled and walked to the seet besides his old friend as the bartender came with not one but two drinks he immediately grabbed the broken bottle and put it slowly to his neck Klaus said * tsk tsk tsk you always did love to play with your food Rippah * he smirked hearing the body drop when the man sliced his neck open Klaus did not flinch at the site he had just seen ...

Warren Worthington III ; Angel Shackles MM Post from @shakeitoff 20 years agoWorthington MansionThe lights were off in his room. The ethereal night wrapped him in a shroud of darkness. The 12 year old boy was gripped by the cold hand of fear. Desperation clung to him carving a hold into his heart. What was he going to do? No one could see him like this, especially not his father. Maybe, just maybe, he could work to get out of this.“Warren!” His father's voice was coming from down the hall. “Where are you son?” His footsteps were getting closer. “Warren! Answer me!” The sounds outside the door were getting closer. The door knob started to move until finally the door opened. The elder Worthington saw nothing but darkness. “Warren, why are you sitting in the dark?” He flipped on the light and found his answer.  All throughout the room there were feathers. They were beautiful white feathers when you first saw them but looking closer, these pure white feathers were smeared in blood. The twelve year old boy was sitting shirtless wearing only his denim jeans. In his hand was the carving knife from the kitchen. The elder Worthington took a few cautious steps toward his son. With his right hand he turned the boy around. There was an outline of white that looked somewhat like wings coming from his son's back. These featherless wings were covered in blood and little spots where feathers were regrowing. “Jesus boy… What the hell happened to you?” The boy said nothing. His face was saturated in tears and covered in shame. He was a freak. He was a mutant. He had seen plenty of them around with all sorts of disfigurements. Now he was one of them. No matter how many times he carved off the feathers from his body, he healed practically immediately. The wings were very big at the moment but they were big enough to be noticed. “I…I'm sorry Dad.” His pitiful voice quaked with fear and physical pain from what he was doing to himself.Worthington kept staring at the boy. His only son was a damned MUTANT? This disgrace had to be taken care of immediately. First of all, the boy needed to be checked by a doctor. Worthington had the money that he could pay for a doctor to make a house call. He slowly removed the blade from the boy's fingers. “Just let me handle this, ok? I promise everything will be alright.”two hours laterThe doctor that arrived was one of the elder Worthington's associates from the country club. By the time the doctor had arrived Warren's wounds were completely healed. The wings on his back had full plumage once more yet they were fairly small in size. There was no evidence of what had transpired earlier. “From what I can tell, his wings will get larger and he apparently has some sort of healing factor. His body is completely healed of any sort of damage. It's truly remarkable.”Young Warren sat there on a chair letting himself be examined. He could see the wheels turning in his father's mind as he stared at the boy. “I want a harness made for him to wear at all times. I don't want anyone to see my son and his little problems here. Are we clear?”The child hung his head. His father was embarrassed and ashamed of him. This broke the child at a young age. To be rejected by your own father was the worst thing ever. His hurt was worse than when he tried to cut them off his body. The doctor standing behind the boy. “Of course. I'll get on it immediately.”  present daySt. Patrick's Cathedral, Manhattan NYThere was an ornate coffin sitting in the front of this ancient church. It was open revealing an older Warren Worthington Jr in eternal repose. Mourners were there all to pay their respects to their former associate, acquaintance and devoted philanthropist who had passed away in his sleep at the age of 81. No one truly expected to see what they saw next.Walking down the aisle was Warren Worthington III dressed in a black suit as was appropriate for such a solemn event as this was. What startled some people was that Warren had not hid his massive white wings from view. He was a mutant and he was proud.His golden locks and billowy wings made him look like many of the angels in the decorum of this church. He was not going to defile this house of God in any way. What he did gave him closure however. He stood beside his father's coffin. “I look at you and feel nothing but contempt and anger for what you did to me for the past 20 years. I don't hate you. You were my father, but I don't love you either. I feel nothing. Goodbye Dad. I hope you rot in hell watching as I help mutants with your money.”Satisfied with speaking his final peace to his father, Warren's wings started moving. Those in the front rows could feel the air as it stirred up all around them. The X-Man formerly known as Angel was lifted off his feet and into the air. He exited the building via an open window near the vaulted roof of the cathedral.He was finally free.    credit: james kriet

if you're ever wondering, why is dany so fuc/king cool...well lets take a look at my natal chart.i have a sagittarius sun, virgo moon, aries rising. i am a capicorn stellium, all this earth and fire all around.

Name: Minji Park / 박민지 Gender: Cisfemale (she/her)Birthday: September 3rd, 1932Age: Appears in her early 20’s   Mental Health: Depression, Anxiety, and PTSD   Birthplace: Wonju, South Korea   Current Place: Currently lives in The Omen Trees Inn which is located somewhere in North America   Diet: Depends on her mood, she may either feed on human blood or eat human food   Languages: Korean (Fluent), English (Fluent), Mexican Spanish (Somewhat fluent), Japanese (Somewhat fluent)   Religion: BuddhistSexual Orientation: Biromantic | Greysexual   Species: Vampire/Witch Hybrid   Ethnicity: Korean   Occupation: Owner and manager of The Omen Trees Inn   Family: Unnamed Father (Unknown), Unnamed Mother (Deceased), Osuke (Older brother, Alive) Min-ji was one of eight children, born to parents who could barely afford to keep a roof over their heads and put food on the table, yet they loved Min-ji and her siblings dearly. Her mother was a witch who taught her children how to use their magic for good, and her father was a vampire who taught Min-ji and her siblings how to control themselves around humans. Min-ji loved learning magic - casting spells especially good luck charms for her friends and family was her favourite.    As the Korean War began, Min-ji’s mother was killed and half of her siblings were killed, being separated by her father later on. The only person Min-ji had left was her eldest brother, Osuke. They fled from Korea and moved to the east coast of America; Min-ji took a job as a maid in a hotel and Osuke worked labour jobs, and both carried whatever cash they had from their deceased siblings and parents.    With the Korean war and the vietnam war, Min-ji noticed the rise of supernatural creatures fleeing to america, and seeing many being killed by hunters. This gave Min-ji the idea to build her own hotel for supernatural creatures - a safe space for them.    Min-ji worked another part-time job and saved up as much as she could until she was able to afford to buy an old hanok building for an affordable price. It wasn’t much, but Min-ji thought she could make due with it - having her brother help her renovate it before opening it up.   Now over seventy years later, The Omen Trees Inn still remains in the secluded area and becoming well-known as a safe space for supernatural beings and paranormal beings like ghosts. She has enchanted the hotel with a protection spell for it to only be seen by supernatural beings, and sometimes be seen by humans depending on who they are. She has also left a permanent spell where when guests enter the hotel, they always have a membership card in their pocket.   The hotel has an area for werewolves when they have to phase during a full moon; a reasonable amount of blood for vampire guests, and the hotel became a safe space for kids and teenagers who were used as experiments and turned into supernatural beings.    Min-ji is known to be kind hearted and shares her love to both her guests, her brother, and her hotel. She can be a bit shy when she meets someone new, but will always greet them with open arms as they arrive at the hotel.   

~~~Trigger Warnings~~~~Little Dove~She remembered the way the water felt. The heat, pressure, comfort it brought as she now shivered outside her childhood home with nothing more than a bucket and a single bar of soap to wash herself off after a long day of gruelling work. After she dismissed the staff is when the truest of nightmares would begin. Her stepmother told her she was doing her a kindness, allowing her to remain under the roof which was now theirs and Ella should be thankful for the extent of care they gave her in those days.  But now she was told she would sleep alongside of the farm animals in the barn and even when the wintry months would pass, frost pouring over the mountainside in silvery steaks of gold.She clung to the one blanket she was given, made of thin strangles of hay braided as one to keep her dainty frame warm, as she huddled close to the farm animals shivering all night long. The day she dared to escape, taking her father's strong trusted steed into the forest beyond their watchful gaze, is when she encountered Mr. Kit for the first time and embarrassment clouded upon her eyes and face. She was unsure if he noticed, the embedded dirt and muck clinging to the tips of her fingers and toes as she curled them under her paddings and smiled with a warmth she hadn't felt in so long fill inside of her heart and bones.But as she watched his hopeful sparkling eyes and listened to his velvety baritone voice, she could feel in the distance a darker presence beyond the bushing that surrounded the two. It was later that night she would find out to whom the presence surely was when she heard the barn doors open with a flickering light and her two-step sisters and their mother were accompanied by a stocky, short man with lustful eyes.Panic surged upon her flesh and she found her legs, toes curling scampering about as she shivered and kicked up the surrounding hay, the look of wild fearful abandon held in her young deer does eyes. Her stepsisters dragged her dainty frame out from the pile of hay that shielded her from plain sight and laced their manly fingers around her wrist like fleshy shackles as the man drew closer to her side. She was wearing no more than a weeding of a potato sack she wore in her nights as a make - shift night gown.The fabric was thin, and he could see though it as her stepmother raised the lantern on her other side. The fullness of her breasts creamy and white and perched tight red dotting nipples that shivered and wrinkled from her fright. Her soft wavy tummy and the golden thickness of her curvy thighs as his sick twisted gaze licked his lips as he stared at the young lass.She was a ripe succulent fruit, ripe and untarnished, and he was enticed even more s by the wild spirit of the girl before him and groaned as he heard her scowling but with such fear he could taste sweetly upon his thin lips and dazzling in his eyes. She was more beautiful than he remembered from earlier that day, as she held the attention of the young prince's eyes.But he needed her, felt her unbroken spirit and wanted to claim her as his as to why he made the deal with her stepmother that night. He would set up two dowries, one for each of her girls, containing a thousand franks each and for herself the title in which she could choose reasonable of course, given her current standing.Ella was bound and gagged, and the edges of the braided rope tore into her precious pout, like a rosebud being forced open as scarlet dripped at the sides of her mouth. She couldn't scream or even yelp as the braiding cut deeply in, and they tied her wrists and ankles together one over the other and led her to the carriage they would hoist her in. Her eyes shimmered and quaked as tears poured hopelessly over petal cheeks, which only seemed to please the man sitting opposite of her as the carriage rocked and squeaked.His eyes glinted across the carriage at the young innocent flower, corn silk hair tousled, tangled and pieces of heath, cinder held between each strand as if trying to cling to a past life she so wanted to feel again as Ella whimpered, squirmed and tried to break out of the braided rope that bound her wrist. It cut, slithered like tiny vines of a rosebush and she could feel the tearing droplets of blood dripping over the tips of her small hands, and her lips, torn, swollen and bruised felt so defeated, broken and already like an old used doll under the Dukes thirsty lust and demands.Ella looked outside the carriage, hardly a star could be seen through the caroling of tree's, but the moon in its eerily glow multiplied as her eyes shimmered in a thousand tears that clung to the fringing of her dark lashes as she squeezed them tight trying to escape, be anywhere else but where she was. She felt his long slimy finger drag up the curl of her neck and brush away his messy hair as he curled it under her chin and she flinched, yelped as he ordered her to open her eyes to him. Ella didn't want to meet his gaze and let him see the terror, helplessness in her eyes because she knew no matter what she said or how she tried to fight she would have to succumb and surrender her virtue if it appeased his ways.He was the Duke dressed in the most fashionable regal of clothes with a sharp coy look and twinkle in his eyes. But all the villagers heard of the tales of his animistic thirsts and ways as he feed on many daughters taking their innocence then tossing them aside, like used cattle soured milk, names tarnished as no nobleman wanted a torn girl no matter how it happened or entailed. There was no use, no way to stop him, and the more she struggled seemed to appease his thirsty soul.She could hear his uneven heavy breaths heaving from the hollow of his throat as his plump rounded body spilled to the floor of the carriage as she tried to close her legs, braid them together at her knee's, releasing a solemn, broken cry, raspy, shredded for all the saliva in her mouth had ran dessert achingly dry. "Pleaseeeeeee!" she leaned over just enough to try to plead, reason with the man who only gazed back at her with the devil dancing in his eyes and just like so she felt the pinch of its forks piercing dragging like hot coal over her flesh and young innocent soul.Ella's sobs, the way the muck drizzled down her cheeks and over the swollen bruising of her lips, much like a rosebud held under water for far too long, puffy, ripe and so very red caused a gleam, flicker in the Dukes eyes as he flicked his coiled snake like tongue over the thin of his lips and she could feel his fingers in the shadows of the carriage try to force her thighs, the creamy silk of her legs open wide, straining the braided rope that held her crossed over ankles below.The feeling burned over her flesh, rippling and she tried to buckle further back into the velvet of the chair. her back arching upwards like a wild doe trying to break free, escape and perspiration cascaded down the dark vee between her full jutting breast. Unbeknownst to her in that very given moment and because of all her squirming, fretting and tossing in the seat, her two rounded full breast, petrified taunt pointy nipples glistened shined as the moon poured in. This caught the attention of the Duke as he cupped harshly upon each of her breast, toying pinching her nipples so painfully she cried out, screamed and couldnt catch her breath.Her body flinched over and over again as tears stained her already flushed cheeks and lips and her sun drenched hair even lost its glimmer like a fading wild flower with each flick and taunting of the Dukes hands. She begged him to stop! Screamed out to him and wished out loud she rather choose death through her meek wiltering breaths and cries. This stop him momentarily as he snickered coyly and looked up between the butter of her thighs and told her, "my little dove that too can be arranged. But you are going to give me that untouched flower willingly or not it makes no difference to me at all. Your fight, struggle will only sweeten and tenderize your skin making it more supple and delicious for me in the end. So fret all you want golden lass, flare your wings your making it much easier for me seeing your lack of clothes spilling over the seat and your skin. That innocence, your earthly bound cries shattering I will taste it all and the honey between your kept legs."His words, each one, each letter he spoke felt like a hot whip slicing upon her heart and she felt suddenly broken defeated by the many months since her father's death, nightmare bleeding into the very next one. She held her light for as long as she felt she could and her mind thought of the man with oceans in his eyes, glaciers sharp blue and pristine but then somehow melted and coated her with a warmth from inside. She thought of Kit in that moment, and in their short moment together he truly saw Ella and not the name given to her by her step family meant to mock and diminish her spirit. Just Ella, the girl who would dance in the rain and the smokey mist that would cloak around her childhood home in a time that felt now so swept away.She vaguely recognized the castle in the shadow of the inkwell sky as the men snaked their long fingers around her waist and rough fully lead her inside. She tried her best to fight, wiggling, withering and throwing her dainty frame into their own, but it was of no use as they ended up groping her flesh and the other raised his hand and smacked her two folds. It stung like a million bees stinging and her knee's nearly gave as they hoisted her up, and he took his index finger and thumb and told her to behave like the good girl he knew she was. All she could do was whimper and sob, and could feel her lips swelling at the edges of the rope as they opened the door to a bathing chamber and tore away like savages the remains of her clothes.  She stood there frightened as they unleashed the shackles upon her wrists and ankles too and untied the rope from around her lips as she laced her tiny fingers over her curvy frame.They then circled around her like two thirsty wolves reading their prey as she peered from under her corn silk strangled locks seeing their hungry gaze holding a liquid lust in their gaze. Her tiny face darted and looked from side to side as her pulse soared into the rivers of her chest, but there was no escaping, nothing she could do and was only grateful for the dim lightening shielding most of her frame. It was then she heard the barking call of their leader, the Duke, scolding them, telling them to leave at once. She was his untarnished angel to pluck, and she needed to cleanse herself of all the farm's filth and muck. The men grunted like wounded pups with their tails tucked between their legs, and the Duke grinned at the poor lass and finally left her alone as the steam rose from the shower he had just made. She was finally alone with a thousand thoughts, not one making sense to the next, and surrendered to the piddling, kneading water upon her flesh as she huddled in the corner, steam caressing her every breath. Even in this desolate time, Ella still held a sun-drenched glow.Just as her mother once told her, galaxies spun and caressed her little soul. Her long wavy strands hugged around her curvy frame and her hips echoed in the sides of her full breasts as she whimpered and slightly swayed. She kept her eyes closed and tight and just listened to nature's white noise of the pellets of water all around her as her mind fell into happier days, wild flowers clipping upon her ankles as she ran free and wild.~Mr Kit- Sea Voyager~ After a particularly cruel and hurtful incident Ella had with her stepfamily, she rides her horse into the nearby woods to calm herself down. She encounters a stag, fleeing from an approaching hunting party, and her horse takes off in fright while Ella clings on for dear life. Her plight is noticed by a young prince who had just returned from Portugal, he was out hunting with his men, who manages to stop her horse and introduces himself… As Kit, an "apprentice" from the palace. While Ella is charmed by the handsome stranger, whom she does not recognize as the king's son, she scolds him for hunting a helpless animal and requests that he refrain from harming the stag. While taken aback at Ella's odd request, Kit is smitten with her compassionate spirit, but is called back by his hunting party before he can learn her name.At this time, Kit had not been too far off adventures yet, not as far as he would have liked to go… his mind was often on the next destination and what beauties that may reside beyond the sea which made his composure icy and distant. His silence terrified the people he would encounter at court, even his own men, because he was slightly unpredictable in a sense. However, it would be in this chance encounter he had with the beautiful Ella that would make him crack a smile for the first time in front of his company.When he seized her horse, and he finally trotted them to a halt, he had examined that the tears from her eyes had seared the dirt from her tender skin, scorching away any possibility that she was not crying because she was afraid that her horse road off suddenly but that she had experienced pain elsewhere… for this reason alone, Kit was intrigued and tangled his fist around the reigns of her horse to keep her there with him just a little longer. It was also obviously clear that she had no idea who he was to have given him such a scolding.It was refreshing and my how beautiful she was, in her pent-up frustrated state… too many of his subjects cater and now, to his every whim, he just wanted to leave to a foreign land… but here a beautiful subject on his land was completely clueless, lovely, naive, and the fairest he had ever seen. He simply could not take his eyes off her… and apparently neither could someone else.Reluctantly, the Prince parted from the beauty as his men urged him that his father was waiting for him… since his travels he had not visited him once, nor did he really care to… but it would be this behavior of Kit’s that would give the Duke free choice to all the ladies in the land… for the eligible Kit had no true interest in any maiden or lass in his land until Ella… and this alone would cause a visit from the Duke to Ella’s stepmother. The duke was greedy… yet he was already bound by marriage to a duchess.…but that never stopped him from retrieving play things.The prince was aware of this, but he held no interest in any of the Duke’s personal affairs. The pretty maidens came and gone like day and night. Kit was indifferent and plagued by the monarch’s need for him to marry. He definitely wanted his kingdom to be stable and had already came to terms of marriage and that it would be an empty one… one he would leave behind when he went to travel and he wanted to set sail now!!In the carriage poor Ella was being grabbed, examined and violated by the Duke’s hands. He would tell her how filthy she was yet proceeded to lick his fingers and touch her, only to do it again, his hands grabbing her bottom and opening her flesh to see her untouched treasures. His hands groped and kneaded her young breasts until her nipples were painfully protruding, yet he never put his lips on herAll this must have been torture for the beauty and had Kit known, he would have had him killed… for even now as the day turned into night, he couldn’t take his mind off the beautiful girl that magically appeared in the forest. He wondered who she was, her lineage, her family history…It was twilight’s hour… poor Ella arrived at the palace, her voice hoarse from crying and her pleas muffled and her body felt broken from being bound so tight and trying to struggle from the Duke’s abusive prying fingers.. which made her thankful of her bondage… but as she was untied and released into the showers she feared for her safety more so than ever and she was deeply wounded by being called such wicked demeaning names…Kit had finished on his ship, setting it up for sail at dawn, to the greenway coast of Iceland… but first he had to shower… he reeked of seaweed and gun powder, fish funk and old leather (lol) and he too arrived at the showers, not caring which he had happened upon, he just needed one!After roping the lines and securing the starboard sails, Kit stared into the twilight, watching the sun sink into the sea. He was out on his own voyage for a week. It was during this time that he remembered the girl in the woods, her sea blue dress, dancing in the breeze like the body of the waves, and her golden blonde hair rippled like the sea-capped turrets kissed by the sun’s last rays. There was an effervescence about the mysterious girl he had encountered. She gave Kit the same feeling he had when he was washed up on shore one early morning after having plummeted into the sea during a storm the night before. It was in those same moments that he felt he had come back to life....And now he was here, starting into the darkness; only the sounds of the crashing waves remained.The sound of the crashing waves was replaced by the sound of the showers, the many lines of spraying waters hitting the marble floor of the palace showers. Kit disrobed and found it refreshing to peel each sea salted plastered garment off his body and submerge himself into the mist of steam that plumed into a cloud from extreme condensation. As the world of the wild washed away his sore muscles, he could hear a faint crying.He had heard many things in these marble showers, from arguments, heated lovemaking, forced lovemaking, and even lonely lads making love to their hands (lol), but he had never heard crying. Kit maneuvered his way through the mist, as if looking for the saddened spirit that had haunted these showers. It was soon that he happened upon the corner. The source of the crying… it was a girl; she sounded like an injured dove. She looked to be one, too, with her angelic golden hair folded over her back like the cupped wings of an angel. She was small. Why was she here? He wondered. A young girl like her doesn’t belong in the palace showers shared by all the men of this wing. If there was a girl here, she was often occupied by other ladies or even her lover.Kit did jump to conclusions. Perhaps she was in love with one of the nobles, and their flights of fancy became disarrayed, and now the poor creature was dying of heartbreak. Kit approached her hesitantly, and laid a gentle hand on her delicate shoulder, only to flinch when she did tend to hiss and bite back. (Lol) Her yelp was ear-piercing, and she seemed to tremble all over. “You’re right!! You’re right!! I smell BAD!!” It was in that hilarious moment in time that Kit made haste and attempted to soap up every part of his brawny stature, especially the cravass of eternal stench. As he was doing so, he could see the maiden peek at him, her arms folded cross over her lovely legs, and the curtain of her hair shielded the fullness of her face. It was hard to tell which was water from the shower or which was her tears, but he was sure he saw her blink-back tears, and the slight corner of her eye smiled just a little, very little.It was then, in the sudsy mess he was in, with soap foam covering all the right places (temporarily), that he crouched before her, attempting to peel the soft fingers of one of her hands from her body. "Please, you don’t belong in this corner. Let’s get you off the floor. Com'on… Come with me." He was sure this was one of the nobles' doings. He didn’t care who the Duke fxked or played with, but not on his time. Not during this hour, and especially not alone with someone so young.Kit guessed this girl was just of age, with clearly no experience. He wouldn’t know this was his long-lost woodland maiden until all the dirt, soot, mud and filth washed away from her body. He lifted the weakened, shivering maiden up off her feet and carried her to the warming springs, so that perhaps upon submerging her wings, she would feel them again and come alive. The hot spring bathing pool was very warm, and it seemed almost instantly her limbs unfolded as he let her sink into the water. He wasn’t planning on staying with her until the slow reveal made his heart aware that this was, in fact, the woman from the woods.Concern riddled his brow. Everything about her seemed to be stuck or locked into stone. What in the hell happened? He was slowly building rage, especially after seeing the many little scars on her back. His hand cupped her face, as his voice pleaded and called for her to come back. Surely she would recognize him.It's Kit. Don't you remember me? Please miss!?" And he couldn’t help himself, his lips were drawn to her. It took everything he had to not kiss her. She was so distraught, affected by memories and dazed.~Little Dove~Ella sat upon the marble tile, the colour of ivory snow, and welcomed the twilight that shone overhead.  The sky was murky and dotted with gray clouds gathering, telling of a storm that would soon make it descend upon the lands below. As the moon illuminated the darkening azure colours filtering along the shower walls, Ella watched the streams of water escape into the drain along the tiled floor. In her mind, she wished she was small just as the field mice in her childhood home, so she could crawl and slip down the drain and leave the castle, her lands once and for all. Since her father's passing, she felt she was slowly dimming, losing all hope, and tonight was no exception.As the Duke laid his slimy, large hands upon her, tearing away her already tarnished clothes, she felt like a primrose from her Mama's gardens being stripped away of her petals and parts of her soul. Even in her wildest nightmares, she never thought her stepmother would go to such lengths of horrors to secure her place, her name and wealth. She couldn't stop her fluctuating, uneven breaths parting between her lips or the tears that seemed endless streaming down her porcelain cashmere skin. Ella had been brave and held courage, goodness for so long she felt she was shattering, breaking like a beautiful stained-glass mural her mother always compared her too. She barely registered the sounds of footsteps or the squeaking of the handle as someone entered the showers a few feet away. Or even feeling the steam misting all around her, the heat sprinkling of droplets drizzling over someone's flesh.  All she could see was the smokey mountains that surrounded her home, the earthy scents, clouds that poured over the tips and into the valleys below as the shower slowly mystified around young Ella becoming entranced, dazed in this memory as if her mind was shutting down protecting her from the horrors she knew would soon come.Ella refused to wash earlier, feeling the dirt, gravel and blood from their lashing would serve as a reminder and perhaps keep them away, feeling she was tarnished and not worthy of their aristocratic hands. She flinched once again as Kit closed the distance between them, and she could feel her heart peppering louder than even the damning showers around her. But she would not turn away, cast her vision downwards as she braved the shrouded face of Mr. Kit, barely able to make out the reflection of tenderness deepening pools of turquoise she would have recognized at once. It was far too dark, and her mind was riddled in fear as his body, so much larger than her own, even kneeled before her seemed too over bearing, intimidating and when he attempted to curl his long rough fingers under her dainty ones she almost held away, but something about his voice and the lines she could feel upon his padding reminded her of  her father. The way the rope from the ships would cut along your flesh, tatter in such lengths it was almost recognizable to any seaman. A marking, veining bearing the sea's heart filled grasp as her winds would often furl, and unfurl around their clipped hands trying to mane and tighten the sails in her ravaging breaths. It was then, as she became lost in her thoughts, mind that she allowed him to raise her to her tiny feet and although fear, trembled upon her naked flesh, she curled into she sides of her masculine frame as he led her outside and she could finally see the stars, the moon glistening upon her. The storm had only moments before cleared and the smell of grass wafted in the air as tiny droplets captured upon the surrounding vegetation, and although she had full vantage to gazing upon this seemingly kind man at her side, she didn't dare to look afraid he may still try to claim her and this was no more than a trick. A game set upon her by the duke. Gingerly he led her deeper into the gardens in a plush enclosed field surrounded by oil lanterns pouring over the emerald strands like tears still cascading down her puffy cheeks in dusky strained black lines that curled into her swan like neck. A longing sigh released from her parting pink lips as he allowed, encouraged her tiny foot to slip into the warm bathing spring as rose petals of all colours danced, pirouetted upon the surface.He gently uncurled his large hand fingers from her dainty one as she suddenly became aware of her nakedness and sunk instantly into the pristine steamy waters, feeling sheltered enclosed by the mist forming around her. Ella closed her eyes as she heard his footsteps slowly melt into the distance as she swam to the far end of the springs where honeysuckles, lion heads and the gently brushing of branches kissed and sheltered all around her. She knew she must leave, still escape, but the water felt so warm, soothing, and she hadn't taken a proper bath since her Papa passed away, being forced to use a bucket and bath in the outside no matter what the elements may have been.For just a moment, she felt like the tiny princess she once was in full bloom in her mother's gardens again and barely felt the rippling of water, Kit sank into the springs besides her as her mind thoughts set her in an almost catatonic state as Kit placed his long finger beneath her chin trying to summons her to the here, now in front of her. Her eyes blinked rapidly as if in pages of a novel, her mother's fairy tales rippled in tears down her cheeks and for the first time in the entire night she was met by the boy, a man with oceanic eyes gazing upon her. Recognition, confusion peppered across her face as his eyes, fringed dark lashes fluttered as wildly as her own like two winged tips emerged in a storm, and she could feel his heated breath bathing upon her skin, as her voice, dry, frail from tears, sobbing whispered his name, "Kit?'Tears streamed quicker upon her porcelain flesh like an old stained mirror as her dark eyes pleaded with his own, and she whispered his name once more, feeling the scratchiness upon her throat as she curled her tiny trembled finger around his single one upon her chin. Her heart sinking and rising once more as she spilled into his furry broad chest and even after his lather, all his scrubbing and fret she could still smell the secrets of the sea upon his flesh as she curled her tiny wet nose into the curl of his neck. He could feel the vibration of her quivering lips, the gentle fawn-like cries as she pulled away from his neck, her eyes shimmering brighter than even the northern lights as she peered into his deep blue sea and placed the small of her hands upon his dark dusky chest.~Mr.Kit Sea Voyager~Kit could hardly believe the maiden from the forest was here with him now… did she even recognize him? Why was she so full of fright and petrified to speak or move? He hardly had the nerve to ask too many questions in fear that this was perhaps all just a dream. Just like Ella, his mind played tricks on him, to keep him from reality. He was becoming of age to be wed and take up his rightful place on his throne, but he couldn’t without taking a bride first..: with his father’s growing illness, he was pressured more and more as the days passed by and to escape, Kit would go off on some meaningless voyage in hopes the earth was flat and he could simply just sail off of it.Kit exercised his movements with the young girl with caution. Gently moving the curtain of her golden hair away from her slender shoulder as they both seemed to dance into deeper water. It was warm, calming. The springs snaked into his garden and the scent of heartsease and lavender flooded the hazy evening. The sculpted bushes and random bushes of some rare flowers dotted and framed the lazy river as they both became lost to the world. The beauty before him embodied the unfulfilled desires of every man born into the world since Adam.She was here now with him, with such a glorious display of her body since Eve, Kit realizes in this moment that any other female would have paled like the moon in comparison to this woman, paled like the moon because she was as radiant as the sun. Kit’s pulse quickened in anticipation even as his gut knotted with dread for she has yet to open her eyes. She looked to be sleeping… and he was unable to help himself from touching her, his broad hand slowly and very softly ran downward from the delicate curve of her nape, along the length of her spine, downward to the softness of her hip where his palm rested as comfortably as his eyes rested upon her fair face… “will you not look at me?” Kit requested softly, wonderingly … his features slowly growing more saffron coloured as they were both in their birthday attire.The waters were pristine, glimmering with the reflection of the stars and their own turquoise hue, just as pristine as the woman before him, no matter her scars, and how much he was captivated by her and her mysterious ways. His smile emerged, replacing his concern. He realized just now that this was her way. Mysterious and cryptic. She was a riddle, a riddle he hoped he could spend the rest of his life solving.Suddenly a squat man emerged from the bath-house side door, he was ranting, raving “where is she?! Find her and bring her to my quarters!” The Duke demanded, called to his men-at-arms and looked frantically in the dirty towel hampers and waste baskets. “GRAND DOOK!? Do you mind?” Kit grunted, keeping Ella behind him. “Can I have no peace?” Grand Duke indeed, in Kit’s opinion, the man looked better suited to frolicking beneath a toadstool. “Yo yo…your Majesty!”The Duke stammered, bowed and walked backwards, bumping into a statue, fumble in preventing it from falling and apologized profusely, knowing he had better leave and find his concubine before the prince realized he was bringing peasants into his side of the palace, which kit had scolded him for before as well as the king scolding him… “ I swear he is an imbecile ..” kit shook his head and stared at the Duke adamantly until he was out of sight, in the background he could be heard, frantically looking for his lost play thing and he was getting irate in losing her.Kit could hear the grand Duke stomping upon the dais inside the bath house, the shadow of the bath house glass showed him raising his stubby arms in rage, his voice cracking, choking and squeaking. “An inspiration that one..” kit chuckled, turning around, the water rippling all around Ella, kit would endure her game and begin guessing.“ we are playing Marco Polo!!” Kit acknowledged in excitement. “A Portuguese water game…” though he had never played it naked… “ you say Marco and keep your pretty as shut and I’ll chant Polo.. you try to grab me but mind you I’m without ummm… umm anything but I’m not hold it against you what you grab.. hahah..